


Word Count/Time Limit Challenge - Love: Fragility, bravery, commitment and fulfilment

by WolfieQuiffy



Category: One Direction
Genre: Angst, Confident Zayn, First Meeting, Flirty Zayn, Insecure Liam, M/M, Matchmaker Louis, Mentions of Harry and Niall, Nervous Liam, Sad Liam, Sad Zayn, Sadness, Truly horrible writing that nobody is interested in reading, Uni Student Liam, Uni Student Louis, Uni Student Zayn, Wingman Louis, idiot, will add further tags with each new part - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfieQuiffy/pseuds/WolfieQuiffy
Summary: Once he was safely ensconced inside, Zayn slumped against the nearest wall and let out a quiet, ‘fuck’ into the empty foyer. So far so good, he thought, relieved that not only had he summoned up enough courage to follow through with the first part of his plan, but that he’d somehow managed to pull it off.Now to stage two. Shit. This wasn’t going to get any easier. How the hell was he going to convince him to open his door, let alone agree to talk?“Zayn?”Or the one where Zayn realises an act of betrayal isn't easily forgotten or forgiven (and maybe it never should be?)





	1. Part One - ‘Sometimes Love means learning how to be brave’

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I got really tired of writing and putting hours of time (or is it torture?) into fics that have never fully seen the light of day, either because I lost inspiration or let doubts cloud my mind, so I decided to try something different that forces me to write and actually finish a fic/drabble without obsessing over every little detail.
> 
> Based on a post I came across of 20 dialogue prompts, I generated a random set of two numbers— one corresponding to a prompt number and the other to a word count (from 150 to 2000) and set time limit (from 15 minutes to 3 hours 20 minutes). 
> 
> Anyway, here is the first one and sorry for rambling on so much (I know it’s probably a bit boring).
> 
> The prompt: “You don’t belong here. How long is it going to take you to figure that out?” 
> 
> Word count and time limit: 1300 words; 2 hours 10 minutes (FYI I went over for both)

Zayn felt like some sort of creepy stalker. 

Actually no, scratch that, he _was_ a fucking creepy stalker, skulking around the entrance of a block of flats he had no business being anywhere near. 

Doing this was completely contrary to Zayn’s normal rational judgment and even though he hated himself for it, he was still determined to follow through with his plan—no matter how pathetic it may be. Determined that, one way or another, he was going to see him and try to make him understand why he had done what he had done (or at least try to, ‘cause truth be told Zayn wasn’t entirely sure _what_ had prompted him to so royally fuck everything up).

“Hey,” a voice came unexpectedly from his right, immediately pulling Zayn out of these confusing and troubling thoughts. 

“Umm. Yeah. Hi,” Zayn replied after a beat, relieved when he recognised the person attached to the voice as the guy who lived in the bottom floor flat.

“Zayn, isn’t it?” he enquired politely, as he extended his hand out for a handshake. “I’m not sure if we’ve ever actually been properly introduced—I’m Aaron.” 

“Y...Yeah. Yeah, Zayn. How ya doing, bro?” Zayn stuttered out, his nerves getting the better of him, as he offered a rather limp handshake in return. 

Trying desperately to disguise his obvious discomfort, Zayn began to wonder if it was a smart idea to engage in conversation with this lad, belatedly realising that if he was around last night and had even half-way decent hearing, he’d agree with Zayn’s earlier assertion that he didn’t belong here.

“I’m good man. Thanks,” he, Aaron, replied and unfortunately his somewhat blank facial expression didn’t help to alleviate Zayn’s concerns—if anything, it made him even more anxious, as he was left holding his breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Aaron eyed him for a moment more, cocking an eyebrow, before offering up a knowing smirk. “Here to visit your boy?” he teased and Zayn let out a hopefully not too noticeable sigh of relief, thankful that, at least for the time being, his fears seemed to be unfounded.

“Yes. Um. I was actually planning a bit of a surprise,” Zayn answered, holding up his bag as if it it contained something to do with said surprise (and not a bunch of his uni stuff—he really was a terrible, terrible person!). “Mind if I go straight up without buzzing?”

Given the uncertainty of the situation, Zayn’s anxiety spiked yet again when Aaron failed to respond straight away, immediately worrying that the good luck he’d enjoyed so far was coming to an end. As much as Zayn didn’t want to admit it, he knew he was always only a moment away from having his web of lies exposed. 

As it turned out, luck continued to favour him, any misgivings Aaron might have had seeming to be dismissed almost as soon as they were considered, as he offered an easy smile and a quick ‘sure’ before graciously unlocking the door for Zayn. 

Once he was safely ensconced inside, Zayn slumped against the nearest wall and let out a quiet, ‘fuck’ into the empty foyer. _So far so good_ , he thought, relieved that not only had he summoned up enough courage to follow through with the first part of his plan, but that he’d somehow managed to pull it off.

Now to stage two. _Shit_. This wasn’t going to get any easier. How the hell was he going to convince him to open his door, let alone agree to talk?

“Zayn?”

Zayn looked up in shock to see Liam standing stock still, part way down the stairs, his face contorted in a strange combination of hurt, surprise and anger.

Well so much for worrying about how to get Liam to talk to him, although to be honest he didn’t look much in the mood for talking. 

Yelling maybe, but definitely not talking.

“What are you doing here? And how the fuck did you get through a locked door?” 

Zayn held up his hands in surrender as he slowly began to walk towards the stairs. “I can explain Li.”

Liam balled his hands into fists, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut as he took in a noticeably ragged breath. It looked like he was willing himself to maintain some sort of emotional control, and it filled Zayn with so much guilt knowing he was the cause of that distress.

Fixing Zayn with a piecing stare, he demanded, “Stop ... just stop Zayn. You shouldn’t be here. Oh and just a little FYI, you don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Ouch. That call out hurt, not only because of how true it was—Zayn had most definitely forfeited the right to use that (or any) pet name for Liam—but also because it was a vivid reminder of how he had let one night of stupidity ruin quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to him.

But Zayn couldn’t let the guilt and shame that had been consuming ever since stop him now. He had to at least try.

“I’m sorry. You’re right Liam—on both counts, but all I’m asking for is five minutes and then I promise, if you still want me to, I’ll go,” Zayn begged. “Please. I just need a chance to explain everything.”

Doing his best to act as if Zayn’s plea had not affected him in the slightest, Liam took the last few steps down the stairs at a very deliberate pace. Walking right up to Zayn, he stop just a step in front of him, his chin jutting forward in defiance. “No, Zayn. I thought I already made it perfectly clear last night that I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Please just leave.”

Not even waiting a split second for a response, Liam stepped around him and made towards the door. Instinctively, Zayn reached out and grabbed Liam’s arm to stop him and as soon as he did it, he knew it was absolutely the worst thing he could have done.

Ripping his arm away from Zayn’s firm hold, Liam refused to meet his eye as he angrily spat out, “You don’t belong here. How long is it going to take you to figure that out?”

A stark, almost unbearable silence descended around them. Standing less than half a metre apart and steadfastly avoiding each other’s gaze, Zayn had no idea what to say or do next and he suspected Liam felt exactly the same way.

Because the thing was, what Liam had just said was perfectly, agonisingly true. 

He _didn’t_ belong here. 

Not in this foyer. Not in this building. And definitely not in Liam’s flat. 

In fact, after what he’d done, Zayn didn’t belong anywhere near Liam ever again—he’d just been too stupid to realise it until that very moment.

“You’re right. I don’t belong here,” Zayn conceded, his voice verging on a whisper. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m a stupid, selfish dick who was too busy focusing on my own pain to think about what was best for you. I’ll ... I’ll go. I’m sorry.”

Zayn turned around, still doing everything he could to avoid Liam’s gaze, before walking towards the door. Manfully resisting the urge to take one last look at the boy he loved so desperately, Zayn opened the door and walked outside, his pace quickening with each step as he felt tears starting to prick his eyes.

“Zayn. Wait!” Liam called after him, causing Zayn to stop in his tracks. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Seems as if I might be just as stupid as you, but before you go can you answer me one thing? Why did you do it?”

“Why did I do it?” Zayn repeated, more to himself than Liam, as he plucked up the courage to turn around and face him, subtly wiping away a few stray tears in the process. “Why did I go to a club, get drunk and kiss a random guy? Why did I break you’re heart and fuck up everything for something so fucking meaningless?”

“Yeah, Zayn. Why?” Liam challenged, a fierce determination in his eyes. “Why did you shit all over our whole relationship for a quick snog with a boy who didn’t even matter?”

“Because I was scared,” Zayn rushed out all in one go (and before he could second guess himself). “It’s as simple and complicated and dumb as that. I was scared of how much you’d come to mean to me. Scared of how much I loved you and how, in the space of only a couple of months, I couldn’t envisage my life or future without you in it. _Scared, fucking shitless_. Of all of it.”

Zayn paused, holding Liam’s gaze for a second, before dropping his head; too afraid of what he would see in Liam’s eyes. The undoubted look of pity, disbelief and hurt, or worse still—disgust. 

Zayn knew he wouldn’t have been able to continue he if saw even a trace of any of those emotions, because— _surprise, surprise_ —along with being scared, he was also a big fucking coward.

“I know how dumb this probably sounds to you because you’re so brave Li—probably the bravest person I’ve ever met—but I realised that opening myself up to someone so completely, laying myself bare and being honest about how I feel, scared the shit out of me. And before long, instead of enjoying our time together for what it was, I found myself spending the whole time worrying about how I was inevitably going to stuff it all up. Which ... if you think about it, is pretty fucking ironic considering I ended up doing that anyway.”

Zayn chanced a glance up at Liam as he finished his confession, surprised to see that he’d taken a few steps closer to where Zayn stood and even more so that he didn’t look like he hated Zayn—well not completely anyway.

“You could have come to me, ya know,” Liam offered, his voice faltering as if he was finding it hard to get the words out. “You could’ve told me all that. About how you were feeling. I would have understood or at least tried to, but instead you decided that no, I’ll go and get pissed and pretend that I’m not even in a relationship. You honestly thought that was the better option? Are you fucking kidding me, Zed?”

Swiping a hand roughly over his face, Zayn suddenly felt tired to the bone. 

Confessing the reason for his betrayal to Liam had gone part ways towards assuaging some of his guilt, but it didn’t change anything. Not really. 

He still knew what he had to do. He didn’t like it, but he knew it was what was best for Liam. And that’s all he really cared about.

“You’re right. You’re so fucking right, Liam. Looking at it now, I don’t know what I was thinking either. Clearly, I wasn’t thinking at all. I don’t know what else to say, except that I’m so, so sorry and if it helps any I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting what I did that night, Li ... Good bye.”

And with that, Zayn turned back around and once again, started to walk away. He swore he could feel Liam’s eyes bearing into his retreating back and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that there was a small, pathetic part of him that hoped Liam would stop him again; that somehow in the last minute or two he’d miraculously found a forgiveness within himself for what Zayn had done. That there was a pathway back to what they had before that fateful night. 

But he didn’t, and he hadn’t and there wasn’t.

Sometimes in life there isn’t a happy ending. Sometimes you have to learn a lesson the hard way.

And as devastated as Zayn was, he was ready to learn.

Ready to learn how to be brave ... like his Liam.


	2. Part Two - ‘Sometimes love needs a little nudge’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Oh,” Louis said knowingly. “I get it now. That’s the hot bartender you were telling me about, innit it? The one you’ve got a big, huge crush on.”_
> 
> _“Maybe,” Liam squeaked out, suddenly finding his new Nike trainers the most interesting thing in the world._
> 
> _“Oh my god this is perfect. Too. Fucking. Perfect!” Louis laughed, pulling Liam in for a comforting hug._
> 
>  
> 
> Or the one where Liam is too intimidated by the fit bartender at his local, to approach him. Enter one Louis Tomlinson—Master matchmaker!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, This is part two of my word count/time limit challenge, based on the following prompt:
> 
> Dialogue Prompt: _“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” “Not really, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”_
> 
> Word Count/Set Time: _1600 words; 2 hours, 40 mins_
> 
> I went way over on the word count and probably the same with the time, but I was enjoying writing this story and I couldn’t help myself! Also, This story is set in the same universe as the first, but at an earlier time and is told through both Liam and Zayn’s pov’s (I’ve highlighted their names in bold to denote this).
> 
> Thanks :)

**Liam**

“Shit. That’d be right. I can’t bloody win today, can I?”

“What?” Louis asked dumbly, as he stumbled into their local just behind Liam, unsurprisingly tripping over his own feet given his current state of inebriation.

Luckily, Liam managed to grab hold of Louis just in the nick of time, stopping him from falling arse over tit, before pointing vaguely to his left (he too was in a less than sober state). “The bar, Tommo,” he explained through gritted teeth, as if that was enough of a answer.

“Grand observation there, Payno. That is indeed the bar and that is exactly where I’m heading.”

“No, Lou you can’t,” Liam urged, moving to block his best friend’s pathway.

“What the fuck are you on about, lad? Of course I can. That’s the whole reason we came here in the first place. And, I might add, it is _your_ fault we ran out of beer in the first place.”

“Yeah, well if you hadn’t of gone through six beers in less than two hours, I wouldn’t have run out, now would I Louis? And besides that’s not what I’m talking about you git. It’s the guy behind the bar that I’m worried about.”

Louis cocked an eyebrow, as if he was mulling over what he’d just heard, before none too subtly poking his head around Liam and taking a good hard look at the bartender.

“Oh,” Louis said knowingly. “I get it now. That’s the hot bartender you were telling me about, innit it? The one you’ve got a big, huge crush on.”

“Maybe,” Liam squeaked out, suddenly finding his new Nike trainers the most interesting thing in the world.

“Oh my god this is perfect. Too. Fucking. Perfect!” Louis laughed, pulling Liam in for a comforting hug.

Liam freed himself from Louis’s embrace after a beat, half-heartedly pushing him away. “Piss off, Louis.”

“No. Come on, hear me out, bro. This could end up being the perfect opportunity for you to ask him out. And even better, I’m here to be your wingman. What could go wrong?”

Liam looked at his (supposed) best friend in amazement. _What could go wrong?_ Was Louis actually being serious? Did he even know Liam? Had he suddenly forgotten about his less than successful dating history? And as if he’d ever be brave enough to speak to the fit bartender, let alone ask him out.

Him with his perfect nose and plump, pink lips; with cheekbones to die for and a jaw shaped by the gods themselves and beautiful, golden brown eyes framed by outrageously long eyelashes. For all those traits and more, Liam found him ridiculously intimidating and pretty obviously, way out of his league.

No, Liam had long ago decided he would be happy to admire the beautiful lad from afar (and maybe guiltily indulge in the odd inappropriate daydream about him—which no one needed to know about!). And even if he did somehow pluck up the courage to approach him, Liam figured there was about a 0.01% chance that he would want to go on a date.

“Oh my god Liam, I can hear you thinking from here. Just stop. For once in your life stop thinking and actually do something,” Louis chastised, his shrill voice jolting Liam out of his wistful thoughts, as he turned Liam around and forced him to face the bar (and his fears) once again.

Lecturing Liam and goading him into doing things was one of Louis’ favourite pastimes—particularly when he had a few drinks under his belt and this instance was no different as he began to push Liam towards the bar.

Fortunately, as much as Louis would hate to admit it, Liam was quite a bit stronger than his friend, allowing him to dig his heals into the carpet and stop any progress almost straight away.

“Nope, Tommo. I’m not going anywhere near him. _And_ ”—Liam paused to turn around and jab a finger at Louis’s chest—“before you say anything, either are you. Let’s just go down to Tescos, pick up an eighteen pack of Carling and head back to mine, yeah? Come on, it’ll be a lot cheaper than the booze here anyway.”

Louis gave him one of his patented death stares, before his expression softened a little. “Fine. Fine. I’ll give up ... for now. But I’ve not come all the way down here to not get at least one drink. Do you want anything?”

“Umm. Yeah, I guess. A pint thanks,” Liam stuttered out, before his slightly addled brain caught up to what was happening (namely Louis trying to pull a swifty on him). “Hang on, Lou. Are you just saying that you’ll drop it to shut me up? I feel like you gave up way too easily.”

“Liam. Really? You honestly think I’d be that sneaky?” Louis retorted, feigning innocence. “And anyway, as I said, I haven’t given up. I’m just smart enough to know when to pick me battles. And right now, when we’re both a bit sloshed, doesn’t feel like the time for a fight. Simple as that.”

Louis finished by bopping Liam on the nose and then strode casually up to the bar as is it was just a normal Friday night, leaving before Liam even had a chance to fully process what he had said.

Louis Tomlinson was going to be the death of him ...

* ^ * ^ *

**Zayn**

Zayn sighed, resting his elbow on the edge of the bar as he took advantage of a lull and surveyed the crowded pub. It had been a predictably busy Friday night, most courses at the nearby University of Leeds having finished up for the year, meaning lots of students either drowning their sorrows due to bad results; or celebrating the good ones.

Thankfully, Zayn landed fair and square in the second category, although his celebrations would have to wait until the end of his shift, when he planned to meet up with his friends, Harry and Niall at a club in the city proper.

A body thumping unceremoniously into the edge of the bar, jolted Zayn out of his musings. He looked up to see a guy fumbling with his wallet and then cursing loudly when he dropped a ten quid note on the floor.

Zayn chuckled to himself, amused at the litany of ‘fucks’ the lad was sprouting as it took him three tries it grab hold of the note.

“Yes!” he proclaimed proudly when he finally grasped it, holding it up in the air like some prized possession.

“What’ll you have bro?” Zayn asked, once he’d caught the guy’s eye.

“Two pints of Fosters thanks,” he replied happily.

Zayn pulled a couple of pints as requested and placed them down on the bar. When it became apparent that the lad wasn’t going to hand over the money, he reached out and pulled the note from his surprisingly firm grip—the guy was stronger than his relatively small frame would have suggested. “Thanks,” Zayn replied quietly.

The guy eyed him for a second or two, a small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, before downing his pint almost all in one go.

“Wanna know what I’m thinkin’?” he teased, the last word coming out a little slurred.

“Not really, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway,” Zayn dead panned.

“Rude!”

“Yeah maybe, but am I wrong, bro?” Zayn replied. He’d had too many conversations with half drunk patrons over the last nine months or so to learn that if they had something to say there was no point trying to stop them.

“Well, no. But it’s still fuckin’ _rude_. So as I was about to say, the thing that I’m thinking is that I’ve got a big, bloody secret. And even better, it involves you.”

“Really?” Zayn replied, feigning interest like the good bartender he prided himself on being. “So are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“See that guy over there?” Zayn went to look in the direction the guy was pointing before being scolded. “ _Don’t look_ , bloody hell don’t want to be too obvious about it, lad. Well, he just so happens to be my best friend and not five minutes ago he practically confessed to me that he was in love with you!”

“Sure,” Zayn replied sarcastically, bracing himself for what might be coming next.

“No, really. Well, ok maybe the word love didn’t exactly come up. But he’s definitely got the hots for ya and yeah, I shouldn’t be saying this, but if you give him a chance, I’m sure he’d love to take you out sometime.”

Zayn considered the guy for a second, trying to gauge if he was being serious or just taking the piss, before looking past him to the best friend, who just so happened to be looking over at them. _Not too bad_ , he thought as he looked him up and down, _not too bad at all_. “What’s his name then?”

“Liam. Liam James Payne, music tech student; part-time singer slash dog groomer and a bit of a gym junkie, which I’m sure you can tell with that tight polo he’s wearing,” the guy revealed proudly, finishing with a comical waggle of his eyebrows. Was this guy for real?

“Ok. Settle down mate. I just asked for his name not his fucking life story,” Zayn laughed, although secretly he was quite appreciative of all that extra info. And, yes, he could tell that the guy, Liam, worked out, especially if those biceps were anything to go by.

“So a question for you, bro,” Zayn continued.

“Louis. Or Tommo if you’d prefer. I answer to either,” Louis offered happily.

“Ok, _Tommo_. I gotta wonder why it’s you over here telling me this and not him? I mean look at him—he’s left standing over there looking like a lost puppy. Did you maybe leave out the part where he’s drunk so much that he’s lost the power of speech or summit?”

“You’re hilarious ya know. An A1 funny lad,” Louis jeered, an incredulous look on his face.

“Just answer the question, Louis.”

“Fine. Liam’s shy, ok, particularly around people he doesn’t know. And he might look like a bloody Greek God, all sculpted muscles and manly chest hair. But you were actually spot on earlier—underneath it all he really is a big, soft puppy dog who always gets intimidated by fit guys like yourself and thinks he’s not good enough. But he is. Trust me, he the one that should be intimidating, ‘cause give or take a couple minor flaws he’s pretty much fucking perfect!”

“Perfect hey? You sure you’re not keen on himself yourself?”

“Me and Liam? Nah, bro. We’re just friends. Have been for years, and that’s why I know how great he is. And besides I’ve got me eye on a adorable lad called Harry that I met here last week actually. But I digress. We were talking about Payno. So what do you say? Is that a yes?”

Zayn would’ve been lying if he’d said he wasn’t a at least a little relieved to hear Louis had his eye on someone else, wondering if Louis’s Harry was also his Harry (especially considering Harry had raved about a local guy he’d met who he described as ‘cute, but feisty’).

But of more immediate concern to Zayn was actually getting to talk to this Liam lad himself, ‘cause he sure as hell wasn’t going to agree to a date just on Louis’s say so. “Hmm. Not sure Louis. Reckon Payno’s gonna have to grow a pair and come over here and talk to me himself first. But I definitely like what I see ...”

Just then the man himself came sidling up to the bar, furiously avoiding even a semblance of eye contact with Zayn. “Hey. Sorry if I’m interrupting? Just wondering what’s taking so long Lou?”

^ * ^ *

**Liam**

Liam looked over towards to bar to see the hot bartender and Louis engaged in what looked like a fairly animated conversation and it worried the shit out of him. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Louis, years of being his best friend having taught Liam he was nearly always up to some mischief or another.

The prospect of having to interact with the guy he was crushing on filled him with nerves, but the worry of what Louis might be saying to him was greater, forcing Liam to push himself towards the bar.

Edging his way gingerly up to Louis’s side, Liam squeaked out, “Hey. Sorry if I’m interrupting? Just wondering what’s taking so long Lou?”

“Liam,” Louis exclaimed, slapping Liam on the back harder than he expected, nearly knocking him into the bar. “Perfect timing, lad. We were just talking about you!”

Liam gulped, chancing a quick glance at the bartender, as he tried to gauge his reaction to whatever Louis had been saying about him. Luckily, he was sporting a friendly smile, amusement clear as his eyes fucking twinkled, taking away Liam’s breath for a second and prompting a sudden feeling of dread that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Yeah?” Liam replied quietly, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt.

“Yeah. Nice little convo we had actually. I should introduce you, let the two of you get better acquainted.”

Liam felt panic rising within him at the thought of having to have an actual conversation and his first instinct was to escape, grabbing Louis arm as he blurted, “No. That’s ok. I think we should go, it’s getting late, Lou.”

“But you haven’t even had your beer yet? Come on, Payno, you drink your pint and have a nice chat with ... Oh fuck, I just realised I don’t even know your name,” Louis said, gesturing towards the bartender.

“Zayn. Nice to meet you Liam,” he replied, reaching his hand out.

Liam stood there staring dumbly at Zayn’s outstretched hand for a few seconds, before finally reaching his own out. Zayn’s hand was warm, his skin far softer than Liam was expecting, as he held on to it for a beat too long—it seemed as if he was determined to embarrass himself tonight. “Umm. Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

“Grand! This is just fucking grand. And now I’m off to the loo. Have fun you two,” Louis smirked, before disappearing off into the crowded pub, leaving Zayn and Liam staring at each other in awkward silence.

It was Zayn who was the first to speak, as he gestured to Liam’s untouched pint. “You gonna drink that? I put a good thirty seconds of hard work into pulling that beer, hate to see it go to waste.”

“Yeah. No ... no I’ll drink it,” liam pledged, picking up the glass and downing in all in one go, which, in hindsight probably wasn’t his smartest idea as the room started to spin a little. He gripped onto the bar for balance, giving Zayn a weak smile as he desperately searched his mind for something to say.

“So is this your local as well or do you just work here?”

“No, I live in Bradford, but I took the job here ‘cause it was close to school, ya know? So I’m assuming you live close by then?

“Yeah I have a flat a couple of streets over. It’s nothing to write home about but at least it’s cheap. So, umm, you go to Leeds Uni then?”

“Yes. I’m doing an English degree. Just finished m’ first year, so all good so far. Still on track for a first hopefully. You’re doing music tech right? How ya finding it?”

“Ok, I guess. My results weren’t the best—scraped through with barely a pass in some subjects. My chances of graduating with upper second aren’t looking good. At this rate I’ll be lucky to get a ‘Desmond’. Been drowning me sorrows since lunchtime,” Liam declared mournfully, before it suddenly dawned on him—How had Zayn known what course he was studying? “Hang on. How did you know .... Louis?”

“Yeah your friend gave me quite your life story,” Zayn replied, with a lopsided smile.

“Sorry. Hope it wasn’t too boring for you?”

“Not at all,” Zayn reassured, squeezing Liam’s arm gently. He looked over then at the queue that was starting to form behind the bar, before quickly pouring a shot of what Liam thought was tequila and placing it in front of him. “Sorry, duty calls. Here, have a shot on me. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

Liam look at the shot glass for a second debating whether or not he should drink it, before throwing caution to the wind and necking it. As the pleasant buzz of tequila swam through his veins he watched Zayn serving the patrons with an awed fascination.

He was all grace and charm and above all else, kindness, letting one guy off when he didn’t quite have enough money and calling over a girl to help her friend when it became apparent she’d had one too many. Liam already knew he was enamoured with the beauty of this boy, but as he continued to observe him he realised, as cheesy as it sounded, his beauty wasn’t just skin deep.

And then he noticed something else, and before he could stop himself (and probably because the tequila was starting to take affect) he started to giggle almost uncontrollably.

“Wha’ ya giggling about?” Zayn asked, an amused smile taking over his glorious face as he finished serving the last person.

“Hmm?”

“Just now you started giggling to yourself. Let us in on the joke, hey babe?”

“Not a joke. Was thinking about how I was right,” Liam replied honestly, his inhibitions starting to slowly ebb away.

“Yeah? About what?”

“You have an eye freckle! I thought you did the first time I saw you, but I was beginning to doubt m’self. But there it is”—Liam haphazardly pointed his finger near Zayn’s left eye, nearly poking him in right in the eye in the process—“as plain as day. It’s sick.”

Now it was Zayn’s turn to laugh, a cute hiccuping giggle, that Liam found endlessly endearing. _It figures he has a cute laugh_ , Liam thought to himself ironically. I mean everything else about him was ridiculously cute, so obviously his laugh would be too.

“So you like it? I’ve always thought it was, I don’t know, a bit weird?” Zayn replied, cocking an eyebrow, as if he doubted the sincerity of Liam’s words.

“It’s cute. And different. And yeah, I like it—I like everything about you,” Liam confessed, probably what was an adoring smile taking over his face, even as a small part of his brain registered the fact that he was going to regret saying the last bit the next morning—assuming he remembered, that is.

“Oh my god. You’re too much. And you’re the cute one, bro. Look at this fucking dimple,” Zayn teased, reaching a finger out to poke at Liam’s cheek dimple, causing him to let out another embarrassing, high pitched giggle. “How has it taken us this long to meet?”

“Probably because I’ve been maybe, kind of avoiding you,” Liam admitted sheepishly, suddenly feeling a himself sober up a bit.

“So you really do find me intimidating? That’s what your friend said earlier, but I thought he was bs’ing me.”

“Well have you looked in the mirror lately. You’re kinda fucking gorgeous. And well, I’m me,” Liam stated matter of factly, as he gestured towards himself.

Zayn scoffed, folding his arms as he stared Liam down. “Liam, come on bro. You’re fucking fit yourself. You’ve got to see that when _you_ look in the mirror; I know I do. On top of that your as cute as fuck and, I know I’ve only known you for what”—Zayn paused to look at his watch—“ten minutes or so, but I can already tell you have a kindness about you that I promise you I don’t often come across. Especially working in this place.”

“Really? You see all that in me? Are you sure you’re not the one who’s a bit pissed, mate?” Liam joked, self-deprivation being his go-to in the face of such an unexpected compliment.

Zayn slapped Liam’s arm in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in response to Liam’s fairly lame joke. ‘You’re going to be a bit of a challenge I think, Liam Payne. But I’ve always liked a challenge,” he teased with a suggestive wink, causing an uncomfortable, but not unpleasant flutter in Liam’s stomach as his mind began to spin with all the possible implications of such a statement.

Thankfully, Liam was able to avoid having to offer a response to Zayn’s somewhat provocative revelation, as a guy came up behind him and pulled him away.

A minute or so later and Zayn was back with a lazy smile plastered on his face. “Wanna get out of here? That was my boss telling me I could finish my shift a bit early and I’ve got to tell you, after serving everyone else all night, I’m gagging for a drink.”

“Yeah. I ... I guess,” Liam stuttered, shocked at what Zayn was suggesting. “Where were you thinking of?”

“Well I was supposed to be meeting up with my friends, but I’d much rather get to know you a bit better?” Zayn proposed, accompanied by a subtle raise of his eyebrows.

“Really? Umm, ok. So we could go to a club, or ...”

“What about your place? You said you had a flat close by, didn’t ya?”

“My place?” Liam blurted, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah, well I’d ask you over to mine, but I live with me parents and three sisters and I’m thinking that might be a bit of a killjoy,” Zayn jested, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes once again.

“Yeah. Yeah. We can do that. Sure,” Liam replied quickly, determined not to second guess himself.

“Great. Let’s go then. I’ll just grab my stuff and meet you out front.”

“Okay.”

As Liam made his way outside and tried (unsuccessfully, it had to be said) to wrap his head around what had just happened, it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Louis since he said he was going to the loo.

As if on queue, Louis came bounding up to him, shit eating grin firmly in place, as he hooked an arm around Liam’s shoulders. “Oi, Oi. What’s happening lad?”

“Louis. Where the hell have you been?” Liam asked, shoving Louis off him.

“The toilet, remember? I think you better lay off the booze, Payno. It's starting to affect your brain,” Louis replied, tapping his temple exaggeratedly to drive home the joke.

“Yeah and you better make an appointment to see a doctor, if it’s taking you nearly fifteen minutes to take a piss!”

“Oh. Ha, ha. Your quite the comedian, aren’t ya?” Louis sneered. “So how’d it go with Zayn? Please tell me you at least got his number. Especially after I did such a nice job of laying the groundwork for you.”

“Better than that,” Zayn interrupted, as he appeared without warning at Liam’s side, linking their arms and sporting a face splitting grin. “He’s taking me home.”

The look of shock on Louis’s face, once he fully comprehended what Zayn had said, was priceless and almost worth all the stress Liam had endured that night due to his friend’s interfering ways. _Almost_. Especially considering what he knew was coming next—the inevitable gloating.

“Yes. Fucking yes! I knew it. I knew all it would take was a little bit of Louis Tomlinson matchmaking magic to get you two together. Now, the only thing I need from you, Payno is a promise that I’ll be best man at your wedding and we’ll call it even, okay?”

Liam could feel the blush rising on his face, completely mortified by Louis’s outrageous request. “Oh my god, Tommo. Can you not? Fucking hell, we only just met.”

Louis just laughed, obviously proud of himself for succeeding in embarrassing Liam in front of Zayn. “So mind if I tag along, or do you two lovebirds want to be alone?”

“Oh, fuck off Lou. Of course you can come.”

“Brilliant. Something tells me I’m going to enjoy this!”

And so that’s how they found themselves, Liam and Zayn walking along arm in arm in comfortable silence, both looking over and smiling at each other every few steps, while Louis trailed a few steps behind, letting out hiccuping spurts of laughter to himself every so often.

“So are you really a singing dog groomer?” Zayn asked out of the blue, as they were nearing Liam’s flat. “‘Cause I’ve been wondering how exactly that would work? Do the dogs enjoy the singing? Like, does it make them less nervous or summit?”

Liam stopped and looked at Zayn for a moment, as if he was stark raving mad. But that was until he heard the familiar cackle of one Louis Tomlinson and in an instance it all made sense.

“ _Louis_ ,” Liam started, turning around to glare daggers at his friend. “What exactly did you say to Zayn earlier, you prat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) Hope it was ok? Any and all comments welcomed xx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) Hope it wasn’t too sad?


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